My Top 10: On Beauty and its Discontents, Part 1

Until I moved to Western Mass, I had never lived anywhere that is truly beautiful. For twenty-five years, I lived within the same twenty-miles stretch from the suburbs of Philadelphia to West Philadelphia.

The suburbs are not beautiful. I am happy to debate this point. As a product of post-war consumer society, the suburbs represent many of the social, economic, and cultural practices that are wrong with the U.S. I cannot find the beauty in strip mall after strip mall, punctuated only by massive homes in gated communities. The sense of entitlement that accompanies extreme affluence is oppressive and unwelcoming.

I admit that Philadelphia has its beautiful qualities. I would take a cityscape over suburban sprawl any day. For two years, I enjoyed a fantastic view of the Philadelphia skyline from my east-facing high-rise dorm room. Lest anyone think otherwise, I have a special affinity for "the city" that I will take up in part 2 of this meandering reflection on the relationship between humans and their environment, or if you prefer, society and space.

I had only visited Amherst twice before I moved. Similar to many decisions in my life, I made this choice without enough reflection. I relocated for school; that was an adequate reason at the time. Even if I had attempted it, I could not have predicted the ways in which living in a rural area would affect me.  

I never paid attention to the seasons until I moved to Amherst. In Western Mass, the seasons are an unpredictable assault. The beauty of the fall foliage is spectacular. Yet, enduring six-months of a pale and grey snow-covered landscape can make one insane, depressed, and restless. Spring arrives late in New England (gratefully, it was four to six weeks early this year), but it is accompanied by a sense of relief that the worst is over. Quickly, the humidity and oppressive heat arrives. As someone who used to live here told me, “You freeze until you melt.”

While I can now find the beauty in each of these seasons, and in pastoral life more generally, there is something profoundly unsettling about living in a rural area. Like any academic, I decided to look to other academics to explain my discontent.

What is the relationship between the rural landscape and its inhabitants? How has the postmodern experience affected rural life? Am I discontent because I have lived in a place where the effects of modernism and postmodernism are unrelenting? 

As Marshall Berman wrote in his defense of modernism, do I miss “an environment that promises us adventure, power, joy, growth, transformation of ourselves and the world—and, at the same time, that threatens to destroy everything we have, everything we know, everything we are…” and the “maelstrom of perpetual disintegration and renewal, of struggle and contradictions, of ambiguity and anguish”?[1] Or, to take one portion of David Harvey’s rendering of postmoderism, do I long for the “ephemerality, fragmentation, discontinuity, and the chaotic…” that characterizes the experience of postmodernity?[2]

To be continued…

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[1] Marshall Berman, All That is Solid Melts into Air: The Experience of Modernity (New York: Simon and Schuster, 1982), 15.

[2] David Harvey, The Condition of Postmodernity: An Enquiry into the Origins of Cultural Change (Cambridge, MA: Blackwell Publishers Ltc., 1990), 44.

My Top 10: Amherst Cinema

There isn’t a whole lot to do in Amherst. People like to make the argument that Northampton has “so much going on,” but that’s debatable. Thus, the age-old pastime of going to the movies remains a good option.

Luckily, Amherst has a nice independent movie theater. While the movies don’t always get there that quickly, at least the theater exists. Amherst Cinema is in the center of town. Conveniently, it’s right behind Amherst Coffee.

Over the past year I developed a study habit that involved going to the movies. I’d get to Amherst Coffee when it opened, then I’d take a break to see a matinée between eleven and noon. Most times there were only a few people at the matinée; usually they had grey hair.

I found that a movie was a great way to relax between study sessions. Well, usually this was the case. A few times I was blindsided by a terribly depressing movie and unable to return to studying. For example, after seeing Melancholia and Martha Marcy May Marlene, I felt like I needed a drink. But, for the most part I enjoyed the mental break and a whole lot of popcorn.

I’m actually a little upset that I will miss Amherst Cinema’s Woody Allen Summer Series. It figures, I leave and they show twelve movies I’d go see. As a (potential) historian, admittedly, I live in the past and discover previous times periods, somewhat sporadically. Having never seen a Woody Allen film until Midnight in Paris, I was promptly educated on which films I should have already seen. My Woody Allen aversion is hard to explain (besides my age), but it has something to do with an Italian textbook in college and Howard Stern. In the past three months, I’ve seen quite a few Woody Allen films (the classics) and I realized what I had been missing.

And so, I’ll miss the proximity of the Amherst Cinema. There are independent movie theaters in Philly, but they lack small town charm.

Amherst Cinema Art Center
28 Amity Street
Amherst, MA 01002
(413) 253-2547

Further reading/why I love Woody Allen: The Whore of Mensa, by Woody Allen

My Top 10: Norwottuck Rail Trail

In November 2010, I accidentally ran the Philadelphia Marathon. One of my best friends, who was intentionally training for the marathon, asked me to join her for an 8-mile run on a disgustingly hot August day. I said yes. I continued to follow my friend’s training plan when I moved back to Western Mass for the fall semester. My friend, her father, and I completed the Philly marathon together and signed up for the Cleveland Marathon the next spring. 

This past January I ran the Walt Disney World Marathon. Next week, I am running the San Diego Marathon.

I was never a runner. I played the sport that requires the least amount of running: softball. Even then, I’d get on base and someone would pinch run for me. But, I found that training for a marathon coincides nicely with the rhythm of a semester. An 18-week training schedule keeps all aspects of my life on track. The flexibility of a graduate school schedule requires some sort of coherence. Further, there are very few finite and tangible milestones in a Ph.D. program. Running a race provides a much-needed sense of accomplishment.

Western Mass is a gorgeous place to be a runner. When I began running, the Norwottuck Rail Trail was my favorite route. This 10-mile paved trail runs from the Northampton side of the Connecticut River, through Hadley and Amherst, to the edge of Belchertown. There are views of the Holyoke Range, conservation areas, swamps, and farms. The Schuylkill River Trail cannot compare. The rail trail was the perfect place for me to learn to run (without cars). I ran on the trail every month of the year. Many winter days I was the only one out there.

People think that running more than one marathon is insane. As the daughter of a football coach, I grew up with concepts like “mental toughness.” I have always known that being a great athlete is not entirely about physical strength. There is a mental component to athletic success. Running a marathon cannot be done without willpower; your body gives out somewhere after mile 20 and your mind must do the rest.

I will miss running in Western Mass. I finally accepted the hilly terrain and came to enjoy the challenge. I learned to run in 20-degree weather with 5-foot snow banks. Running in Philly will be difficult for a variety of reasons, but to quote a classic movie, "the hard is what makes it great."

Norwottuck Rail Trail

446 Damon Rd.

Northampton, MA 01060
413 586-8706 ext. 12

My Top 10: The Idea of the High Horse

Only I could like the “idea” of a beer bar more than a beer bar itself. This sentiment is similar to how I feel about nose and eyebrow rings. In my head, those things sound great. But, in reality, they wouldn't be that cool for me.

Last summer, the Amherst Brewing Company (ABC) gave up the best location in the town: a prime spot at the main intersection. To expand their brewing capacity they relocated to a cavernous retail space about a mile down the hill (and it IS a hill). The previous tenant was Gold’s Gym. The new ABC feels like someone turned a Best Buy into a bar.

I have worked at a few restaurants. If there is one thing I have learned, it’s that location matters. I worked at two restaurants in the suburbs. One of them was near the center of town. The other was set back from the road in a terrible commercial/retail space. The former is thriving. The latter resulted in an $8 million dollar disaster; it remains the biggest debacle in the history of the Main Line dining scene. Location matters. Period.

I will never understand ABC’s decision to move. They lost their clientele from the center of town, Amherst College, and UMass. While they can brew more beer, who wants to have a beer in a cavernous soulless space? Beer bars require an atmosphere. The new ABC has none.

I was pleased to find out that the owners of The Moan and Dove decided to open a brewpub in the old ABC space: High Horse. Even though I don’t like the name, I was ready for a new beer bar in town.

The High Horse opened in December. The interior update has the feel of a nice bistro. Yet, the too-loud classic rock playlist clashes with any other attempt to create an upscale atmosphere.

The menu is eclectic and the portions are too small for the price. I’ve had the burger, the veggie burger, stuffed mushrooms, and the poutine. I don’t think the people of Amherst want an overpriced three-ounce burger.

The head brewer, with experience from Mayflower Brewing, has yet to hit his stride; the in-house beers are unbalanced across the board. The guest beers are basic craft beer choices (Lagunitas IPA, Allagash White, etc.). I realize my craft beer needs are on the on the extreme end of the spectrum.

Overall, I like the idea of the High Horse more than the actual High Horse. There is potential left and right, but no execution. In the several months that it has been open, not much has changed. It’s possible that they are making enough money off of their upstairs bar (for hipsters), to keep the downstairs bar going (for adults). But, I have no desire to go see “live DJs” and “Brojuice” perform. That’s just disgusting.

I wish them well. The center of town needs a solid restaurant/bar. Until High Horse improves, it remains just a nice idea.

High Horse

24 North Pleasant Street

Amherst, MA 01002

413-230-3034